


May It Be

by Sweet_Osmanthus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Post-Season/Series 07, There will be more characters, everyone needs a father like Selwyn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22547647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweet_Osmanthus/pseuds/Sweet_Osmanthus
Summary: May it be an evening starShines down upon youMay it be when darkness fallsYour heart will be trueYou walk a lonely roadOh, how far you are from home-May It Be, Enya
Relationships: Brienne of Tarth & Selwyn Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Addam Marbrand, Jaime Lannister & Selwyn Tarth, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark & Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 22
Kudos: 65





	1. Selwyn I

**Author's Note:**

> Months ago, I watched "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring", and for the first time in my life learned the lyrics of "May It Be," a beautiful song sung by Enya, and I must say, this work is inspired by it. If any of you want to know why, the reason is that I find in S7E7, the scene Jaime riding north (to Brienne) fits in with the lyrics.  
> From what I've heard, we can find many similarities between The Lord of the Rings and A Song of Ice and Fire. Many scenes in GoT are also pointed out resembling the trilogy. I don't want to say it, but if that was why D&D decided Jaime should head north alone...Fine, it seems they ruined everything they tried to build.
> 
> It'll still be a lonely road in this fic, but don't worry, it's mentally lonely, and it won't last long. Besides, Jaime would have the Evenstar(s) guiding him.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

It was late, though Selwyn hadn’t gone to bed, he didn’t expect the knock on his door.

He opened the door to find Maester Croselle as his visitor, “My lord, we just received a raven from the Crown.”

_The Crown_

_Brienne_

A few years ago he had sent provisions and men when the former Lord Paramount of the Stromlands, Renly Baratheon, called banners and raised armies. And Brienne was one among them.

However the young stag was the first king fell in the War. Since then there were rumors saying that Brienne, his precious Brienne who had to beg him to let her join King Renly’s Army, was the one who murdered him. He never believed those rumors though, neither did people on Tarth, who had known their Lady Tarth well enough to know the accusation untrue.

But he scarcely heard from Brienne, only once after Renly Baratheon’s death, weeks after he sent ransom and got no reply. Her letter said she was safe in King’s Landing, and would stay there as a guest of the Crown.

Then there was nothing again, no information came to tell him where Brienne was, what she was doing, how she was, and most of all, if she was still alive.

Until now, a message came from the Crown, where he last heard about his daughter.

“Thank you, Croselle.” Selwyn took the scroll from Croselle, who was holding a candlestick.

With the dim light Selwyn observed the letter.

The first thing caught his sight was the sigil, not that it was something he didn’t recognize, it just reminded him so many things. There was a blustery lion head on the crimson wax, the sigil of House Lannister. Even Tarth had heard about the blown up of Sept of Baelor, and the once Queen Regent was now crowned as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

‘So many things happened, the realm is chaotic, yet the only thing I care is where you are, my little star?’

He broke the seal, and was taken aback to find out that the handwriting was so illegible that he could hardly read it through the flickering candlelight.

_To The Evenstar, Lord Selwyn Tarth,_

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_I once traveled with Lady Brienne several years ago, and has viewed her as a friend since then. Your daughter has pledged herself to the Lady of Winterfell and attended the parlay held in King’s Landing few days ago as one of the North’s delegates. The Crown made a treaty with the North and the Targaryen, which is fight against the dead along with the living._

_Those should rest in peace have been brought back from their sleep. From what we’ve been told, the dead has formed an army beyond the Wall and is slowly marching south. Our goal is to crush the death army before it grows and becomes a bigger threat to human being. Together. What I want to ask of you is that, I personally hope House Tarth and other houses in the Stormlands would join the Crown. Together we would either defend the living successfully or die in honorable deeds._

_Someone told me this war is beyond house and loyalty, that no matter where our fealty lie or whom we choose to follow, we human being should fight in union when facing the common threat. If there’s anything more to say, that is I send this letter on my personal behalf, not on behalf of the Crown._

_I know it took time for preparation, but it would be my honor if you grant me your presence in King’s Landing before our Army heading North._

_Sincerely,_

_Ser Jaime Lannister_

Illegible that the handwriting was, the content was not indecipherable. After reading it twice there were things he was certain about.

One, Brienne was alive, she was in the North, two there was going to be a war, and three, she would fight and this might be the last chance he could ever see his daughter before he died.

“Croselle, I know it’s late, but I’m afraid we have many to do, would you help me?”

The Maester only bowed, “Anything, my lord. I’m at your service.”

“I need to send ravens now, come with me.”

* * *

Eager to meet his daughter on mainland as he was, Selwyn had done all he should and could, and was now left with nothing to do but wait after on board.

It’d be a lie if he said he trusted Jaime Lannister over a single letter, and that was why the first thing he did was writing to his friends on mainland, asking for more information about the upcoming winter, about the dead and the treaty. Only after those words were confirmed did he send ravens to lords and ladies in the Stormlands seeking for assistance, and had been grateful to receive positive replies from most of them within a sennight.

 _Beyond house and loyalty_.

Was it a promise that the Crown wouldn’t demand their loyalty after the war ended? He couldn’t tell, neither could he tell his fellows so. But the letter did deliver a significant message, they were not going to the battlefield due to their liege’s bidding--who had been long gone--or an order from the Crown, which the legitimacy had been the cause of the War itself. They were doing it for the realm, for the human being.

Selwyn took the piece of parchment from his pocket, the content he knew by heart after countless reading, but no matter how many times he read, how hard he prayed, the lion head was still there, and it stung him.

Though he was grateful to hear the news of his daughter, it didn’t mean he was not concerned about the relationship between his daughter and that infamous knight.

‘He called her a friend. A friend who would send a letter to me while I receive none from my daughter, a friend who wrote me about my daughter when I had no idea how her fared, a friend I didn’t even perceive his existence in my daughter’s only letter.’

Selwyn heaved out a sigh silently. Only if he could voice it out…He was worried. Brienne being independent once made him feel proud, especially after Galladon left them. However, there were times that he just wanted to protect Brienne from the world like a normal father to his children, only to find out his little star had already overcome the challenges on her own. Time after time, he’d learned to let her be, but this…

Seriously, how did they cross path? And why would Jaime Lannister want to see Brienne Tarth’s father before heading north? Aside from the possibility that he only wanted to gather more men for the war against the dead, and since he knew Brienne, who happened to be a lady from the Stormlands, he wrote her father a letter in hope for an army or at least some men, and everything else was just as simple as it seemed.

‘No. There are more.’ The part unknown was also the part he dreaded the most.

Selwyn was sure Jaime Lannister did not inform Brienne before write to him, otherwise he’d receive his daughter’s letter rather than the one coming from _an unexpected friend of Brienne’s_.

‘Would it be weird if I prefer a letter on behalf of the Crown? Father help me. This is impropriety. Did he know there’s something called consequence? Did he bother to think? Either he doesn’t care or it doesn’t matter.’

Unfortunately, Selwyn had a feeling the reason was the latter.

‘If he doesn’t care, then he’s not a true friend of hers, but if he knew and thought it doesn’t matter…’

He came up with a possible explanation, but the meaning lying behind it was far from pleasant to a father like him.

Jaime Lannister knew the consequence but did it anyway, because he thought Brienne would forgive him eventually. That man was confident _his daughter_ would forgive him.

Selwyn felt a cold running down his spine. He stared at that scroll again, where the wax remained crimson, the lion continued roaring.


	2. Addam I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why not take it?” He tilted his head.  
> His question met a sigh from Jaime, “Why take it? Because it’s pretty? Because it’s made of silver and gold? Or because it shaped not in antler but lion’s head?” Jaime whispered, his voice full of pain and grief, “Addam, I don’t want it, no matter how fit it looks on a Lannister’s head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter finds you all safe and sound no matter where you live.
> 
> It’s been a long time! It’s been a long time! I swear I didn't forget this work, it's my babe, I won't abandon it.
> 
> I changed the schedule A LOT. And by that I mean the TIME of many events, like when would Selwyn come to mainland, when would Lannister Army leave King’s Landing, and especially when would the Battle of Winterfell happened, because I want them to spend more time with friends and family. So please forget about the show on this matter, let’s pretend the Wall had not been destroyed.

“Our men in King’s Landing will march north a fortnight from now.” Jaime said.

‘Are you joking? That’s hardly feasible…’ Addam groaned inwardly, and thankfully he wasn’t the only one who deemed Jaime’s command impractical.

“But we’ll need a moon turn just to gather supplies for the…” Ser Harold said.

Jaime cut in, “We don’t have that much time. The North falls, we fall. A fortnight.”

‘Fine. No room for argument.’ Addam cast a sight to his childhood friend, it’d been a long time he saw Jaime in such a _good_ mood.

Pointing his finger to the map under their feet, Jaime went on his plan, “There are many forces in the Westerlands, I’ve sent ravens to our bannermen, they’ll take the River Road east. We’ll meet them at Lord Harroway’s Town and marched together to Winterfell.”

‘Maybe it’s about the unconventional enemy we’re gonna fight? The Dead Army they say, something only exists in tales.’ To think what awaited them in the North excited him, Jaime must feel the same.

“Ser Jaime.” Queen Cersei’s voice started them.

“Your grace.”

“My lords, I need a moment with my brother.”

Addam saw Jaime turned and nodded to all of them, his expression said, ‘We’ll continue later.’

So he muttered as he left with others, “Your Grace.”

Before he closed the door he heard Queen Cersei asked, “What are you doing?”

Outside the room, he saw no Queensguard but his brother-in-arms only, well, if the queen wasn’t worried about her own safety and her Queensguard didn’t think it necessary to post themselves outside every room she entered, who was he to judge?

‘Though I doubt there’s anyone who can pass the great beast behind her and cause her any harm, it’s called the Queensguards’ duty, isn’t it?’

Laughing at himself, Addam thought bitterly, ‘What am I talking about? After King Tommen dismissed Jaime, the Kingsguard or the now Queensguard is nothing but a joke.’

Leaned on the nearby wall, he watched his comrades discussing the issue laid before them.

“Do you think the commander…Is he serious about departing in a fortnight?” Ser Desmond said.

“I do think he’s quite serious. You heard him, he has it all planned, not just us, the forces we left in the Westerlands he wants them in the North, too.” Ser Oswyn said.

“But how can we possibly do that? Our army has not crossed the Neck for decades!” Desmond grumbled.

“He’s right! The temperature, the snow, there are so many problems!” Harold voiced out his concern.

Desmond added, “And the Northerners! They hate us! Is it truly wise to fight alongside them?”

Addam grimaced, that was exactly the same question he hoped Jaime could answer.

Fighting against the Dead was one thing, giving your back to a Northerner was another, and there were not just the Northerners. How could they tell their soldiers they were going to fight with someone who was their enemy merely moons ago? He was in King’s Landing when Jaime and the Lannister Army encountered the Targaryen Army on the Goldroad. But even he had heard how traumatized those survivors had become.

‘That battle cost us too many soldiers’ He sighed, ‘It’s gonna be hard, very hard.’

“Addam? How do you think?” He found them all staring at him.

“Me?”

Harold threw open his arms, “Yeah! How do you think about this whole thing? I say that is crazy, he should give us a full moon for preparation, or one week more at least, a fortnight?! That’s insane!”

Rubbing his jaw, as Jaime’s second-in-command Addam felt obligated to defend Jaime, “You know what? I agree. However, insane doesn’t equal impossible. Think about it, the main question here is the supply, Jaime knows it, and I guess he’s come up with some sort of solution, otherwise, he can’t insist on that.”

“Are you sure? You think he has a plan?” Oswyn said.

“Yes.” They eyed him skeptically.

“Oh come on! Even if he doesn’t, do you think he’ll change his mind?” Addam added sarcastically, “I thought we all understand how stubborn our commander is, don’t we? Don’t worry, he’ll figure it out. Trust me”

“But…” Desmond wanted to go on complaining, but some noise drew Addam’s attention.

**_Clang! Clang! Clang!_ **

“Wait.” Addam held up a hand, “Where does that come from?” It sounded like swords clashing, a fight.

**_Clang! Clang! Clang!_ **

The noise was more clear now that everyone stopped talking. It came from the room they left minutes ago.

Addam heard some sharp intakes of breath behind him, he held his breath, ‘Seven Hells. What’s going on there?’ He moved to stand in front of the door, left hand on the knob and right hand on his sword.

**_Clang! Clang! Clang!_ **

**_“Guards!”_** It sounded like someone being strangled.

‘Jaime! Shit! That’s Jaime’s voice!’

Addam drew his sword and rushed in, the others followed him without hesitation.

The first thing came into their sight was the Queensguard gripping Jaime’s neck with his left hand, lifting him up from the ground. He didn’t raise the sword in his right hand, but God! There was blood on it, and Jaime was bleeding in the waist! He tightened the grip…That monster wanted to choke Jaime to death!

Before they could reach Jaime and the Queensguard, a female voice yelled, “Wait! Stop!” Queen Cersei had lost her composure, she grabbed her guard’s arm, “I said! Stop!”

‘Yes! You monster! Put him down!’ Just when Addam thought the great beast was going to release Jaime, something happened.

All of them watched in horror as that the queen was shook off by an arm-swing, and the monster chopped the queen’s head off her body with one single blow.

**_“No!”_ **

* * *

It’d been a long day, the trial of the former Queen’s Hand--who was accused guilty for creating the uncontrollable Queensguard and indirectly caused the Queen’s death--the funeral of the late Queen Cersei, and then the ceremony that should have been a coronation, if the chosen successor didn’t firmly reject the crown and the throne came with it.

Addam didn’t understand why Jaime refused to take the crown, and that was part of the reason he stood in Jaime’s solar rather than in his own appointed guest room.

He watched as his friend lit yet another candle and placed it on the round table, in front of the crown and a glass of dornish red.

“What brings you here, Addam?”

“Why not take it?” He tilted his head.

His question met a sigh from Jaime, “Why take it? Because it’s pretty? Because it’s made of silver and gold? Or because it shaped not in antler but lion’s head?” Jaime whispered, his voice full of pain and grief, “Addam, I don’t want it, no matter how fit it looks on a Lannister’s head.”

“Jaime, you understand I’m not only talking about the crown itself. I’m asking about the kingship.”

“Why would I want to be a king? Should I want it?” Jaime finally turned to face him, “Addam, I don’t crave for power, I know I can own it but I don’t want it.” He paused, “So I keep my hand from it.”

“But if you don’t take it, then who should take it? The realm can’t work without a monarch!”

“Can it not?”

“What do you mean? Of course it can’t!” He said without a second thought.

“Tell me it wasn’t my father who ruled the country when Aerys Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne, or tell me it wasn’t Jon Arryn and Ned Stark who kept the country in order when Robert Baratheon went hunting, drinking and whoring.”

Addam bit his lips.

“I’m certain we can find more evident from the past, but I think those are enough for now. See? It doesn’t matter if there is a monarch, what the realm needs, is someone who knows how to do his job.”

“Is that why you agreed to be the Hand? Because you think you can do the job but you don’t want the title? But is Hand not a title?”

“It is, a title which gives me limited power, a title I can give to another suitable person or simply give up on it when I want to throw it away.” Jaime inhaled deeply, “I’m afraid of power, Addam, I’m not ashamed to admit it. Power is poison. Some people are addicted to it. I see how people were consumed by it, sense and conscience were eaten away, I witness them slipping into madness and becoming lunatic, all due to the thirst of power.” He paused, “That’s why I need to make sure I can get rid of it when the time comes.”

Jaime’s words threw Addam off the edge. He thought Jaime would keep the Handship until a new monarch appeared in Westeros and released him from the duty, but now he said he might abandon it whenever he wanted to?!

“Jaime…”

“Let’s drop it. It’s late. I believe you don’t climb all the way up here at this hour just to ask me why I refuse to be the most powerful man in Westeros.”

Addam watched as Jaime went to stand behind a desk.

“Right.” Knowing Jaime would give him no more answers on that topic, without choice Addam headed for another, “I hope you still remember that Ser Harold thought you should give us more time to prepare.”

“Yes, I remember, so? He complained?”

“I’d say he voiced out his concern, and not only him, literally everybody, yes even myself, we think there are issues you should think more.”

“Then tell me, what are them?”

…

Addam was about to leave when Jaime called him.

“Before you leave, Ser Addam, make sure they know the plan remains unchanged, our army will set off in a moon turn. The details will be discussed on the morrow.”

“Yes, my Lord Hand.”

“That’s all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Cersei and Mountain died, and Jaime became the Hand. I do consider the option of Jaime taking the crown, but honestly, knowing they’d soon go north, I don’t think it necessary. Jaime never wanted power like his family, then why not brought the crown to the North and gave it to whoever want it, after made sure he or she would be a good king or queen of course.
> 
> The urgent issue Jaime faced however, was that someone must step forward to restore the order. He didn’t want to rule, but he understood the country needed a person who could keep the government working, and in his experience, such man was usually called the Hand of the King. Not the King himself, thank the Gods.


	3. Selwyn II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wish to send a letter under disguise? In Tarth’s name?”  
> “Please, tell her I really am sorry.”

A red-headed man approached the just disembarked Stormlanders on the dock, by his side stood a soldier carrying the Lannister banner.

“Who’s that?” Selwyn heard Huston Wylde whispered behind him.

Considering the banner he brought with him, and the letter he sent to Jaime Lannister a sennight ago, Selwyn was fairly certain this man was sent by Jaime Lannister. Though actually, he did not expect Jaime Lannister to send his man to greet him and his fellows.

“Welcome to King’s Landing, my lords.” The man bowed briefly, which Selwyn returned with a curt nod. “I’m Ser Addam Marbrand of Ashemark. The Lord Hand entrusted me with escorting you to the Tower of the Hand at the Red Keep, I apologize for such haste but the Hand insists there are some emergency he wishes to notify you at once.”

 _The Hand_ wished to speak to them? Selwyn tried hard to recall who was the Hand of the Queen, an unfamiliar name from…not a noble house, he was sure. He exchanged a look with others, nobody seemed to know what so called _emergency_ would be, but he could feel the distrust.

_Beyond house and loyalty, on personal behalf, not on behalf of the Crown. Yet now stand before us is a man of the Hand, the Crown. How true are your words, Jaime Lannister?_

Selwyn didn’t know if he could be disappointed in someone he hardly trusted.

“And for your soldiers, there’s a clear outside the castle they can make camps, my men will lead them to the place.” Several Lannister soldiers came forth when mentioned. “Now, if you’ll follow me, my lords.”

* * *

They were led to an office where two Lannister soldiers stood guard out of the door.

Addam knocked twice, “My Lord Hand, your guests from Stormlands has arrived.”

“Come in.”

Selwyn squared his shoulders, prepared himself for whatever to come. _If the Crown demand fidelity immediately, I’ll—_

But when the door swung open and they strode in, Selwyn knew something must be wrong. Or he must have missed something.

He’d seen Jaime Lannister before, back when Robert Baratheon often summoned lords to his court, he’d seen him in golden armor and pristine white cloak with a fine sword, long curly golden hair and clean shaved face with cocky smile. But now every part of him looked different, except there was still a sword strapped at his hip.

The Kingsguard attire was replaced by burgundy shirt and dark doublet; the hair dotted with silver was darkened and shortened; gone his dominant hand, a fake one now attached to his forearm. But those were not the most shocking part, which went to his beard and the black under his eyes, and the Hand brooch pinned on his clothes.

“He’s the Hand?” “Fuck! The Lannister is the Hand!” “It’s insane!”

Selwyn listened as others hushed behind him, he stared at the man in front of him, while Jaime Lannister remained in his seat waiting for them to digest this surprising news. He’d entered this room feeling tricked, fooled, but this…This was beyond his imagination.

If he’d become the Hand before the letter, then why did he not mention it? If it were after, then how did he become one? And the most important, Hand or not, what did he want from them now?

“Ser Addam, thank you, you may leave us now.” Once the door closed, Jaime Lannister stood up, “Well met, my lords. I’m glad you’ve come to join us.” He seemed earnest, as if he really was happy to see them, but that didn’t help to dissipate Selwyn’s worries.

“Before everything, Ser Jaime.” Selwyn decided to ask, “I come to this city with my men and my fellows with theirs, all because of the letter you sent on your personal behalf.” He had asked his fellows to lead their armies here based on a single letter, he’d not be able to forgive himself if he led them into death due to his misplaced trust. “In front of them, I’d like to ask you, will you be true to your word, to ensure this would be beyond house and loyalty?”

After a moment of silence he heard him said, “Guess I know where it comes from, don’t I?”

 _You should._ Selwyn thought, his sight drifted downward to the brooch, before traveling back to Jaime’s face.

Selwyn was tall, and he knew his height would force people to crane their necks if they wished to meet his eyes during conversation. So usually he sat or kept some distance with others to reduce the pressure, only when he wanted it to be an advantage would he stand close and stare down on people. But today even if he wanted to look imposing, this superiority was muted.

Jaime Lannister was tall enough that there was no need for him to overstretch his neck, and though he did look up, the way he lifted his chin showed more confidence than weakness. His eyes didn’t waver under his stare either, remained sharp and straightforward.

 _Like a lion, proud and graceful._ Selwyn reminded himself, losing a hand or not, a lion still had claws.

“Things happened here, Lord Selwyn.” His tone was flat, “Long things short, not long after I sent you the letter, my late sister, the former Queen Cersei was killed in an accident by her Queensguard, Gregor Clegane. And that’s why I ended up being the Hand.”

The Queen’s demise was…unanticipated.

“Hand? Your sister died childless and you said you’re not king? You didn’t take the throne?” Gulian Swann asked. “Then who sits on it now?”

“No one. King or Queen is not what Westeros needs right now. A Hand is enough to keep this country in shape—”

“As if I’ll believe a Lannister doesn’t crave power—”

Jaime Lannister cut off Gulian, he kept his tone even but one could easily tell he was irritated, “Believe it or not, Lord Swann.” Breaking the eye contact with Selwyn, he threw a glare to Gulian, “I wore a brooch on my clothes rather than a crown on my head.”

He turned back to Selwyn, “For your question, Lord Selwyn, since I’m now the one in charge, I can guarantee you that the Crown will not force any participant to bend the knee, such matters will not be proposed before the Death are defeated and we leave the North.”

“And after?” Aemon Estermont asked.

“If your house seek independence, Ser Aemon, it’s not me you should concern yourself with…” A mocking smile danced around Jaime Lannister’s lips.

“Don’t you talk to my father like that, Kingslayer!” Alyn Estermont growled.

The easy smile was gone within a blink, out of instinct Ser Aemon moved to block his son from the lion’s sight.

Selwyn sensed the tension and danger, but something Jaime Lannister said caught his attention. _He said we shouldn’t concern ourselves with him, are there something else that we should concern about, what’s that?_ Then he realized, Westeros was in war, the Crown wasn’t the only one demanding fidelity, more likely than not, the Targaryen would want their loyalty as well.

“Ser Jaime, if I may ask.” “Yes?” “You think the Targaryen would expect fealty from us.” His attempt to make it sound like a question failed poorly.

“I’m afraid, yes.” He paused, “Though maybe not immediately. As I mentioned in the letter, the Crown and the Targaryen agreed to cease fire in the name of the common threat. Therefore, before this peril end, you can refuse her demand base on the treaty, but after, let’s say, it’s not my place to answer for the Targaryen.”

If Selwyn didn’t imagine it, he’d say Jaime Lannister seemed to be more patient when talking with him. He wondered why.

“Will you start war right after the dead fall?” Loran Peasebury pressed.

“I think only time can answer that, Ser Loran.” Jaime Lannister dodged it and raised his hand when another lord opened his mouth, “Enough of these, though I don’t mind answering, you must be tired after your journey here, I suggest we move on so that you can take a proper rest before supper. Our troop will set off a sennight later, Ser Addam will lead them—”

“Ser Addam? Not you?”

“There are some things in King’s Landing I need to deal with. Once I have them under control I’ll depart with the cavalry, hopefully we’ll be able to meet again in a moon turn.”

…

“Lord Selwyn.” Selwyn stopped in his track toward the door, “A word, please.”

Jaime Lannister gestured him towards a table near the window. Selwyn took a seat opposite him.

“I must thank you again, my lord, for your decision, it means a lot.”

“No thanks are required, I made it for the living.”

“I see.”

Silence stretched, awkwardness filled the space when neither chose to speak. Selwyn waited, after all, it was Jaime Lannister who called for a word not him.

“I…If you don’t mind me asking, Lord Selwyn, I’d like to ask you about Lady Brienne. Have you written to her lately?” One could fake friendship in letters, but only experts could do it in conversations. The way Jaime Lannister pronounced his daughter’s name, it didn’t like pretending.

“Mayhaps you’d not mind telling me first, Ser Jaime, why you deem this matter your concern.” Selwyn kept his face as stoic as he could.

Jaime Lannister _squirmed_ in his seat like a naughty child caught by a parent, “I—I didn’t tell her I was going to involve her father in this war last we saw each other, so…I’m wondering if you’d told her about…This.”

 _Oh, so you want to talk about this._ Selwyn lifted an eyebrow. _Now that I really left my island you starts to worry? Should do it before you sent that letter, man._

“And? If I had? Or not?”

“Prepare myself for the blow, I guess.” He smiled sheepishly, “We have a war to fight, so she won’t want me dead, but she definitely will want to beat me into dirt, or snow, I believe the north will be covered by snow when we get there.”

“You think it’s either killing or beating? That sounds foreign to me, I remember my daughter to be more merciful.”

“I apologize, my lord. I don’t mean she’s bloodthirsty, only to say that she’s quite a force.”

 _She surely is, I haven’t heard any other girl daring to challenge her potential betrothal and break her opponent’s bones._ Selwyn watched as Jaime Lannister’s smile grew broader when describing his daughter, like he was sharing a piece of precious memory with an old friend.

 _If they truly are friends, if he’s not using her, if they’re_ just friend _, then should I feel concerned? Shall I?_ Selwyn asked himself again. Knowing his daughter had a thing for pretty face, he’d feared she’d fallen into a trap unaware of it. But Jaime Lannister seemed to really know her, and Selwyn must admit, never did he hear a man talking about his daughter with so much mirth and fondness dancing in his eyes. Jaime Lannister said _force_ like he was ready for a challenge, said _beating_ as if he deserved her punishment and would not feel ashamed.

 _Are there something more? Or am I thinking too much into it? Mayhaps that’s simply admiring?_ Sometimes Selwyn didn’t know he prefer which, especially now Jaime Lannister didn’t seem _that bad_ to him.

“Thing is, Lord Selwyn, I—”

“Selwyn is fine.” Selwyn blurt out.

A dazzling smile appeared on his face, “Well then, please, call me Jaime.”

Selwyn nodded, “Jaime. What do you want to say?”

“Oh yes. I—I’ve been thinking that I—I should have told her this news myself, and also, make an apology to her, but was concerned that my bad reputation in the North will make it hard for my letter to get to Lady Brienne _unopened_.” Jaime grimaced. “Lady Brienne has worked so hard to earn the Northerners’ respect and their trust, I’m afraid that once they find out the letter is from me, things might change. I don’t—I don’t want to destroy this relationship. That’s why I ask you whether you’ve connected her or not, because I want to but don’t know how…”

Now he could see Jaime’s intent, “You wish to send a letter under disguise? In Tarth’s name?”

“May I?” Jaime nearly jumped to his feet, his excitement palpable. “Sorry, I know it’s too much to ask, but…Please.”

“I can help sealing your letter with my signet, Jaime. But I guess you already know that we can’t be sure it won’t be opened by others.” Selwyn steepled his fingers, “I do have a suggestion though.

“Considering your main purpose is to apologize, I’ll suggest you postpone it until we get to the North, where you can do it personally. Meanwhile, I’ll pen a letter, and mention about your apology in it. How do you think?”

Jaime swallowed a lump, nodding, “I think that’s excellent.”

“It’s decided then. I’ll finish it before sunset. Anything else you might want to discuss?”

Jaime shook his head, “I guess no, that’ll be all, thank you, Selwyn.”

They stood and Jaime followed Selwyn to the door, yet just before Selwyn crossed the threshold Jaime called him again, “Selwyn.”

He stopped, half-turned and glanced over his shoulder.

There was no way Selwyn would miss the look on Jaime’s face when he said, “Please, tell her I really am sorry.”

_Why does he look so miserable?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Brienne's POV.


	4. Brienne I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only wanted to finish the letter Selwyn wrote Brienne this weekend, but somehow the rest of this chapter came to my mind and so here we are, the fourth chapter~

Brienne walked two steps behind Sansa on the battlements. She stopped when Sansa drew to a halt.

“I watched you and Arya sparred several times from here.” Sansa said. Brienne followed her sight looking downward to the courtyard.

“Lady Arya is good, her strength might not be strong, but her footwork is quick, fluent, and her aim is deadly.”

“She surely is. That’s why I trusted her to carry out the sentence of Petyr Baelish.”

Though it wasn’t the first time she heard that event, Brienne felt shocked. She’d worried about Petyr Baelish during her journey to King’s Landing and back to Winterfell, so when Sansa told her what she and Arya had done in her absence, she was both relieved and a bit lost.

_He’s gone, Lady Sansa’s safe now. But why am I always somewhere else when Lady Sansa needs me?_

She tried to reason with herself she was doing Sansa’s bidding, but that was futile.

_Last time at Riverrun, this time in King’s Landing. What next? I’m useless to her. Sooner or later I’ll fail her…_

“Brienne.” Sansa’s voice pulled her out of her mind.

“Yes, my lady?”

“I trust your capacity of protecting me, as well as I trust Arya’s skill with a sword and Bran’s ability of seeing things.” Sansa turned and gave her a small smile, “You are like a big sister to me. You’re a family to me.” Just when Brienne was about to return that smile, Sansa turned away again. She started talking, but this time her voice was like the cutting northern wind that kept blowing on Brienne’s face, “Yet sometimes you remind me of Robb and Jon, you’re fast to trust, you believe rules are for all people to follow, but you forget people can also betray.”

Brienne hang her head, she mumbled, “I’m sorry, my lady, I—”

Sansa interrupted her, “Don’t be.” Then she sighed, “It’s Jon’s idea, I know you couldn’t change his mind even though it was me who sent you there. I simply…”

Two dragons flew pass above Winterfell, drawing people’s attention.

Sansa watched those two figures flying away while saying, “Cannot trust people that easily, no matter she’s a Lannister or a Targaryen.”

* * *

The next day Sansa asked Brienne to have breakfast with her before they headed for the council room.

Brienne was still thinking about what Sansa said last afternoon when Podrick came in with a scroll in his hand.

“My lady, you have a letter from King’s Landing.”

_King’s Landing? Who will write to Lady Sansa? Is it another one from Cersei Lannister?_

She never imagined the letter was hers until he handed it to her.

Brienne put down her spoon and took the scroll from Podrick, “Thank you, Pod.” Podrick bowed before he closed the door behind him.

“Who’s that from?” Sansa asked, didn’t stop tearing her bread into small pieces.

“I don’t…” She wanted to say _she didn’t know_ , but the final word stuck in her throat, for she knew whom it came from instantly when she saw the familiar blazon. She stared at the wax, it was…golden, and the sigil on it was the full coat of arms of her family, house Tarth.

“Anything wrong?”

“No, it’s—I—It’s from my father.” She would not lie to Sansa.

There were standards of sigil using in Tarth family. Only the Evenstar could use golden wax, other family members (though there was no others left on the world except her) like herself, would use silver. Their sigils were different, too. Evenstar would have the full image of their coat of arms, a star surrounded by suns and moons, while others only had suns and moons.

Whatever Sansa was doing she stopped, she was silent until her curiosity won out. She asked in a tone sounded tentative to Brienne’s ears, “I think this is the first letter he sends to you after we arrived at Winterfell?”

Brienne nodded. _Also the only one I get after I came to the mainland. But how does he learn I’m here? I don’t think I’ve…_

“Do you wish to read it first?” Sansa smiled at her, “It’s been a long time, I believe you miss him very much.”

 _Not as much as I should._ Brienne thought morosely. She dreaded more than anticipated about the letter’s content.

Her father was good to her, but there was always the invisible expectation of her being a dutiful heir, to marry and to give birth to House Tarth’s next generation—duties that she tried to avoid, postpone, and run away from.

_Why does he send this now? Does he want me to go home? Now? But I don’t want to. I have duty here, I’m Lady Sansa’s sworn sword._

“I can attend the meeting myself.” Sansa offered.

Brienne shook her head, she needed time to prepare herself for whatever information she might get. Besides, she didn’t think it contained matters that demanded immediate responses. Even if it did, she wouldn’t be able to get home in another two months.

“That won’t be necessary, my lady, I can read it later.”

“Alright.”

* * *

Brienne came back to her room with sore legs and stiff shoulders, but it wasn’t unexpected after standing behind Sansa all day. Literally, today wasn’t a busy day, yet when it came to its end Brienne felt as mentally exhausted as the day she attended Joffrey and Margaery’s wedding.

Sansa, as she declared yesterday, had little faith in the treaty they made in King’s Landing. ‘I appreciate your accomplishment, Lord Tyrion, but I can’t bring myself to believe we’re talking about the same Cersei Lannister.’ She overheard Sansa not too quietly told Tyrion (She was on the other side of the door standing guard while they spoke inside).

‘They promised army. And what do you think, Lord Tyrion, is the worst outcome?’

‘The worst…’

‘—is that they come too late, and while we’re fighting the dead they stab us in the back, or, they show up after we defeat the dead and draw their swords against our fatigue soldiers.’

Sansa did have a point about the Lannister Army, though. Mayhaps the best would be they didn’t come up north at all.

Brienne sighed as she pried her armor off. She knew why Sansa were so skeptical, and she agreed they should be careful when treating with Cersei Lannister. But did they have other choices? Call her too idealistic or too desperate, the truth was, the North could not afford two wars at the same time. There must be a truce.

 _Lannister Army…Who will lead the army?_ Brienne’s mind drifted, back to a sea of red tents outside Riverrun, a red pavilion, a handsome face, a low and calm voice and a pair of sincere eyes.

_Will it be him? Jaime?_

She chewed her lips at the thought of the knight. In nights as dark as tonight when she was alone and she thought of him, she’d allow herself to be selfish, to be greed. She’d call him by name only, without title, without last name, just Jaime. But she dared not voice it even in the dark, feared that people would hear and laugh at her. Silly, they might chant, or stupid. Improper, mad and delusional, to think she had the right to call him so intimately.

But she couldn’t control her mind, nor could she resist the increasing yearning after they bid farewell at Riverrun. His sights and words and the final wave of his hand had waken something deep inside her heart, something she was afraid to name, to touch and to embrace.

That feeling lingered, clouded her mind, till she met him again in the Dragon Pit. This time, however, was a catastrophe. No pleasantry or banter exchanged, not even a side glance spared, he ignored her. Brienne looked down on her right hand, she had dragged his elbow with this hand, although it was gloved then, she could feel his warmth that penetrated the clothes and kissed her flesh. She forgot how they broke apart, did he shrug her off? Or was it her that released him? But she remembered what followed.

She nearly yelled at him and he fought back just as fierce.

That wasn’t the worst, though. When he turned and followed his sister away, a dull pain took over her body and her vision blurred. She didn’t understand why the scene would cause the ache behind her ribcage. Thankfully, people had other things occupying their mind, no one seemed to notice her standing there a bit too long.

_What am I supposed to do if it’s him? Shall I avoid or approach him?_

Her questions met no answer. Brienne shook her head to clear her mind.

 _It’s ok, it can wait. There’s still time._ Yes, that was it, she still had time to figure out what to do when she met him again. There were things that could not wait, such as the letter lying on her table right now.

She grimaced and groaned before broke the seal, “Whoever told him I’m here, I want to kill him.”

_To my dear daughter, Brienne,_

_I hope you’re safe and sound in the North._

_You worried me, starlight. Years passed and no words coming from you has aged me. Take pity on your old father, I’m not young any more, and I long to have my daughter by my side when growing old. I learn from your silence that you might not wish the same while chasing your dream, I understand you’re trying to show your independence, and I respect that. But forgive me, Brienne, for I can no longer restrain myself when I heard you’re risking your life somewhere in the North. I know you won’t agree even if I ask you to come home now, so I decide to come. I’ll face the common threat with you, we’ll fight together, and I hope after all is over, you’ll survive, and you’ll be willing to go home._

_We’ve gathered our forces, and are now waiting in King’s Landing to depart with the Lannister Army, whose leader assured this war has nothing to do with royalty and invited us to march with them. If the weather allows, we shall reach Winterfell in two months, but I heard it has started snowing in the North, so I’m not certain about how long should it take._

_You must be shocked now by how I get to know these things. On any other day I might say I have my resources, but not today, because I want you to experience the shock I had had when I received a letter from someone who claimed to be my daughter’s friend. That man not only was able to share your whereabouts with me, but also provided enough information that led to the decision I write above. I can’t deny I’m grateful to him for that letter and the news it carried, but the sender was by far the least expected person to me._

_It’s hard to tell which surprises me more, the person you made friend with or the personality he showed me. But he did impress me during our brief talk by asking a favor of me. He asked me to tell you that he wished to apologize to you, which I deem necessary, too. Because connecting a friend’s family without informing that so called friend is truly inappropriate and reckless. Not to mention I wasn’t even aware of the existence of this friendship._

_When and where did you meet Jaime Lannister? And how, my dear, did you two befriend with each other? I’ve not heard that story from him, but even if I manage to do so, I’d like to know from you as well when we meet again. Until then, may the evening star guide our paths._

_Yours,_

_Selwyn_

_Seven Hells!_ Brienne cursed inwardly.

Not once in her life did she wish to run her sword through one of her friends, but now she could feel her blood boiling in fury, her fingers itching to grab someone’s neck and strangle him to death…

_Damn you, Jaime Lannister! Why did you do this?! How dare you?!_

She wanted to shout, to scream, but it was late and half the castle would already be asleep by now, so she settled to a low growl.

Her hands had started shaking violently after she finished the first paragraph, she couldn’t believe this was happening, her father left their island behind and would be in the North in three moon turns, because Jaime fucking Lannister told him she was going to fight for the living in the fucking North!

_Good, now I know what I’m going to do when I see him again._

Brienne picked up Oathkeeper, glaring at the lion-shaped pummel. Its ruby eyes glistened, reflecting the fire dancing in the hearth.

_You’ll regret what you’ve done, Lannister. I swear it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brienne got her first chapter! Tyrion gets bigger chance to have the next one, but he might need to share it with somebody, which I have not decided yet. Maybe it’ll be Sansa or Daenerys, or even Podrick. Don’t know.  
> Evening Star! I finally found some place for this guiding star. Also, I made up the standards of sigil using, I don’t know if it’s possible in Westeros, I simply thought it’d be fun if Brienne could identify the sender without open the letter.


	5. Brienne II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delaying, I spent the whole week trying to write in Tyrion’s POV, but every word I typed felt wrong in one way or the other, so at the end I changed my mind. Sorry Tyrion, you have to wait a little longer.
> 
> PS. I don’t know how to write a dream. (Sighing

It was a dream. Brienne knew it must be.

Because her surrounding was all white, covered by something snow alike, yet she couldn’t find the familiar cold she slowly got used to. At least she still had her armor and Oathkeeper, Brienne thought. Drawing the sword from its scabbard, she looked around, and that was how she saw a figure, holding a sword in his hands like herself. She narrowed her eyes, and was shocked when she identified him—Renly.

She reminded herself it was just a dream, where people long gone could come for a visit. She lowered her sword, but did not lower her guard. It felt strange, she’d expected Renly the night she avenged him, but he didn’t came that night, nor did he in the following months. He never showed up. Why now?

The more intriguing was the sword he was holding. She seldom saw Renly drew his weapon, and never for duel or spar. While she knew Renly could fight, she also knew he found no enjoyment in the songs a steel could sing. Then why in her dream did he bring a sword?

It made no sense. But dreams were not meant to be realistic, right? Besides, it was her dream, she should be safe here…Yet, what if it was a nightmare? Countless times after Renly died she’d woken up with tears rolling down her cheeks. What if this time she had to relive that again? Her hands trembled at the thought.

Brienne shook her head vehemently. _You’re stronger than this, be brave._ She told herself. _It’s just a dream. You know it. There’s nothing to be afraid._ So she moved, step by step, until she was by his side. She expected him to acknowledge her presence (she didn’t hide her footfalls), and he did turn to face her, but when she opened her mouth to speak, things happened.

She saw his eyes widened, and his lips moving, then, before she understood what he said, she was shoved aside.

She regained her balance quick enough that she didn’t fall on the ground, but was still curious about Renly’s absurd action. She only realized what was going on when she turned around and saw Renly collapsed in front of her.

There was a dagger, buried to its hilt in Renly’s chest, on his heart.

So it really was a nightmare.

Falling on her knees beside Renly, she felt numb. Why? She wanted to ask. Why after all of the things she did, her only reward was this horrid dream? And this time was even worse, Renly died because he pushed her away, he died to save her.

She gathered him in her arms, he was not dead, not yet, but she knew it would not take long for the blood to run dry and the light in his eyes dimmed to non-existent. She’d went through this enough times that she knew how these nightmares worked to torture her. At least there was no one else to see, she could touch him without further concern.

But as she stared through her watery eyes, the figure before her changed.

The first was his eyes, the blue faded and the green deepened, until the once aquamarines became emeralds. Then his hair, dark gold and silver replaced jet and coal, and his features, shifting and changing till it was a new but familiar face in place of the old one.

_Jaime?_

Brienne blinked several times, she couldn’t believe what just happened. However, if it was true, if it wasn’t Renly but Jaime…A sense of trepidation took over her body.

_No. No, it can’t be. No, it’s not him! It Can’t Be Him!_

Tears threatened to fall, out of panic Brienne averted her eyes from the face, started checking the rest parts of him, looking for evidence that it wasn’t Jaime’s body she was holding. But her search was in vain. His attire, whatever he wore resembled Renly had turned into a set of armor, the armor she’d seen both at Riverrun and the Dragon Pit. His physique, stretched while one specific part missing. And the sword that caught her attention earlier, now she saw the details, was revealed to be the other half of Ice, Oathkeeper’s twin, Widow’s Wail.

_Why? I don’t understand, why you? Jaime, why?_

But that was a lie, she knew why it was him, knew why it could only be Jaime. Renly might be kind to her, but he was also someone used to be protected, he’d never put himself between her and danger. Only Jaime, who had saved her more than once, would think her worth his rescue.

Thinking back now, she finally understood why he said what he said before pushing her aside. ‘Watch out!’ He’d shouted, but she’d been too slow to react. Had she reacted quicker, everything could be different, he’d not lie in front of her, bleeding to death.

Brienne gave up fighting her tears, they streamed down her face before falling on him. Her whole body was shaking, her hands trembling, she felt like her world crumbled, though she knew it was just a dream.

_Dream…Yes, that’s right. It’s just a dream. I can wake up and forget all these horrible things…But why am I still here?_

She looked around, desperately looking for something or someone that can tell her it was time to wake up. An exit to leave this nightmare behind.

“Why keep me here? What else do you want from me!? It’s enough! Let me wake up!” She shouted.

But there was no one to answer, not even a voice, only Jaime and she, and he was dying in her arms. Defeated, Brienne wrapped her arms around Jaime’s torso, she pressed her forehead against his. She hated crying, but at moments like this, when she failed to protect—

Brienne woke up gasping for air, cold sweat trickling down her temple, mingling with her tears. She sat bolt upright on her bed.

_‘Nothing’s more hateful than failing to protect the one you love.’_

Her last thought in the dream ringing in her ears, frightening her. Those were her words, something she told Podrick during their journey. But she’d been talking about Renly! Not Jaime!

_Love…Love? Is that what it is? Love? I love Jaime?_

She drew her knees to her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, Brienne tried to deny what her mind suggested.

_No, it can’t be. I don’t. That’s impossible. It’s just a dream. A DREAM! Everything in dream means nothing in reality._

She knew there were people who dreamed frequently, and claimed their dreams were visions of the future, but it wasn’t her. Moreover, to believe Jaime would die for her in the future was totally bizarre.

_If I’m to choose, it’s more likely I’ll die for him than he for me._

Because she loved him. Because if sacrificing herself meant she could save the one she loved, she’d do it without doubt…

_No! I don’t love him! I DON’T LOVE JAIME LANNISTER!_

She thought she shouted that final sentence out loud, but what came out between her lips was a sob. “Stop it. Don’t—I don’t want to…” _Love someone who won’t love me back._

* * *

“Your father is coming?” Was what Sansa breathed out after Brienne told her about Selwyn’s letter. Brienne had shared most of the content, but saved the Jaime-related part for herself.

“Yes, my lady.” Brienne said with a nod. Her mind was still a mess due to the disturbing dream she had last night, if Sansa would allow her, she had no wish to elaborate further.

“He wants to bring you home?” Sansa asked. “Is that why he’s coming?”

Brienne scrambled to her feet, “Lady Sansa, I swore an oath to you, by the old gods and the new I’m _your sword_. My father can’t force me to break—”

“No, Brienne. He can’t.” Sansa pat her hand, her smile so reassuring that Brienne eased at once.

“My lady…”

“He doesn’t have to though, I’ll release you from your vow once he arrives.”

Her words hit Brienne square on the chest.

_What the HELL?_

“I’ve been considering this since yesterday, actually, and this is my decision.”

“I don’t understand…” _Nothing’s making sense!_

“You’re his daughter, Brienne. While I appreciate your service and enjoy your company, I can’t keep you apart forever.” Sansa paused, “You served my mother before, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Then I believe you’ve seen how desperate parents could be when their children were taken away from them.”

“But it’s different—I mean, I’m not held a hostage or a prisoner, I swore my oath to serve on my will. I’m not forced to do so!”

“It may be different to you, but is it different to your father? It keeps you here.” Sansa, to her credit, remained calm despite Brienne’s outburst. “Think about him, Brienne.”

_Then what about me?!_

* * *

Three nights. Brienne had dreamed of Jaime three nights in a row.

Every dream was a little different from the other, or, to her horror, he died in different ways in order to save her. She was always there, witnessing everything, and always too late. She’d not felt so helpless since Renly’s death, but these nightmares really were driving her crazy. Day and night, they filled her mind with Jaime Lannister, it was exhausting.

To make things even worse, everything going on around her seemed to be related to him more or less, such as now, the Greyjoy siblings turned up at Winterfell’s Great Hall with a group of Ironborns in tow. At first there was silent, but as soon as Sansa rushed to embrace Theon and Daenerys pulled Yara in for a hug, the tension was broken. The Northerners, though still wary, welcomed the Ironborns as allies.

“Theon, how did you make it?” Daenerys asked, the joy of reuniting with Yara lightened up her face.

From where she stood, Brienne could see Theon tensed. Sansa felt it, too. Sansa pulled back to watch Theon’s face.

Theon shared a look with Yara, who took a deep breath before she talked, “Theon didn’t do it on his own. There was someone else.”

Daenerys arched her eyebrow, “And who was that _someone else_?”

“Jaime Lannister.” The room fell into silence at the name Theon uttered.

Daenerys clearly didn’t expect that name, Brienne saw the corner of her mouth dropped a bit. “That’s surprising. How?”

Theon explained, “I thought after what Euron said on the parley he’d have left King’s Landing with the whole Iron Fleet. But after a few days, I found out he didn’t, there was one of his ships left in the harbor. I didn’t know Yara was in it at that time, but there was the chance, so I decided to give it a try at night, that was when Jaime Lannister showed up.

“At dust, I saw Lannister soldiers gathered near the dock, they were ready to attack that ship just like me. I’m worried they might hurt Yara so I went to talk to him. I thought he’d simply step aside and let me search for Yara, instead he told his soldiers to help me, saying Euron is his enemy, too. And after Yara was freed—”

“Enough.” Yara interrupted Theon, “I’ve got things more important than that to report. Your Grace, Euron Greyjoy is plotting against you and the North with Cersei Lannister.”

Brienne’s breath hitched.

_Cersei_

_King’s Landing_

_Father_

Selwyn said he was currently in King’s Landing. If Cersei was breaking the truce, did that mean her father might be in danger now? Brienne couldn’t help but panic.

And anger.

She saw nothing wrong in blaming Jaime for putting her father in such situation, had it not been him, Selwyn would have still been in Tarth. Her hand went to Oathkeeper, gripping it tight that her knuckles turned white. But the grip soon loosened, and her anger fading away quickly, replaced by worry, a lot more worry, about him.

The reality that she was no longer able to be mad at Jaime made her feel…pathetic.

 _Stupid dreams._ Brienne thought bitterly, though deep down she knew it wasn’t all about her dreams.

“He left King’s Landing for Essos, he went there to collect Golden Company’s soldiers on Cersei’s command.” Yara said. “Your Grace, You must not trust Cersei Lannister—”

“Wait a moment, Yara.” Tyrion cut in, drawing everybody’s attention, including a stone-faced Daenerys, their supposed ally betrayed them had not pleased her. “You said Cersei betrayed us, which I think is possible—”

“You doubt my words? Euron didn’t intend to release me, you think he’d bother to lie to his soldiers when I was tied to a post?”

“—But if so, why would Jaime help you? Please don’t misunderstand my words, I’m happy for your freedom, it’s just—” His expression was serious, but Brienne thought she caught a glimpse of frustration here and there. It didn’t surprise her, given that Tyrion was the one who suggested this union, if what the Greyjoys talked about Cersei were true, then their efforts and preparation over two moon turns would all go in vain. “You see, even if I tried, I don’t understand how these two things can happen at the same time—”

“Why would I know? They’re your siblings not mine, I should be the one questioning you what they have on their mind, not you me.” Yara rolled her eyes and retorted. On her side, Theon was shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Sansa noticed it, “Theon.” She called the younger Greyjoy. “You’ve talked to him. Did he say anything else?”

“Yes. He…said something weird about Cersei Lannister. After we found Yara and she told me about Cersei and Euron.” Theon said.

Tyrion crossed his arms over his chest, “And that is?”

Theon looked less tense when Sansa gave him an encouraging nod to go on, “He said the Lannister Army would follow his command, not Cersei’s, and that he’s had her under control.”

Brienne’s heart skipped a beat. _It doesn’t sound like Jaime. What happened?_ It was well-known that Jaime was loyal to Cersei to a fault, that his devotion to his sister had been so strong that it was unshakable and unmovable.

That feeling stung. She recalled when they met outside Riverrun, how Jaime had rejected to retreat without taking the castle because that was what Cersei asked of him, and how cold he was when he refused her call of taking action because that was not what Cersei wanted.

 _The Jaime I know would not say these words, he loves Cersei too much to stand up to her. There must be something behind his words, but what is it?_ What could drive a man so deeply in love to go against his lover?

“Under control?!” Tyrion gasped, as dumbfounded as all people, and probably more astonished than others, which was understandable since they were talking about his siblings.

 _Under control, did he mean house-arresting? Or anything like that?_ The most Brienne could imagine was Cersei being confined in her rooms.

“That’s what he said, but before that I’d already heard some whispers in streets, people said the Queensguard and the Hand of Queen were both killed. If that is true…” Theon swallowed hard, he looked nervous, “If he did kill them, and the army chose him over his sister, I think, I think that’s possible?”

“Seven Hells…” Someone whispered, probably Tyrion, but Brienne didn’t care, she had her own thoughts running through her mind.

 _Yeah, seven hells indeed._ Brienne thought. _Gods forbid. I want to know what’s going on in the south._ Was her father safe? Was he alright? Was _Jaime_ alright? The situation must be really bad for him to act in this way. What had Cersei done to him?

Brienne didn’t want to admit it, but no matter how hard she protested, there was no denying that she cared for him despite what he’d done. And frankly, it was getting harder to hate him, whom she continuingly dreamed of dying in her arms.

She felt a pang in the chest when an image of Jaime suffering flashed through her mind. This time he was not suffering from a cut or a stab but a wound in his heart.

Her heart ached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brienne dreamed of her love, at first she thought that was Renly, but then the man revealed himself, Brienne then understood he was not Renly, he was Jaime.  
> The news of Cersei’s death was blocked by Jaime, who didn’t want Daenerys to change her mind and choose to take King’s Landing before the Long Night was over.


	6. Jaime I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter you’ll find Jaime’s biggest fear was to become someone like Tywin or Cersei or, yes, Tyrion.  
> This chapter is divided four parts, the first part happened the day Jaime became the Hand, the second was on the next day of the first, while the third and final were on the day Selwyn arrived in King’s Landing.  
> Again, I don’t know how to write dreams.

‘Hand is a title which gives me limited power, a title I can give to another suitable person or simply give up on it when I want to throw it away.’

If anything, Jaime wanted to throw it away now.

Right after Addam closed the door of the Hand’s chamber Jaime took off the pin from his chest, and locked it in the drawer.

For fuck’s sake, what did he just say? Did he really just call Addam “Ser Addam?” Gods, what had gotten into him? That he’d address his childhood friend in such formality. He sounded like his father! And Addam! He called him “My Lord Hand!” Seven Hells! If that was how they were calling each other from now on he’d rather die! That was his friend!

 _This is not right!_ Jaime growled. _I must do something. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll tell him I didn’t mean it, he’s still my friend, not merely a commander of mine._

It was terrifying how many things changed since he received that pin. Jaime was scared, and he couldn’t be more grateful that he’d chosen to refuse the crown. He’d definitely go mad if everyone started to bow to him and call him “Your Grace.”

_After the war, that’s the longest I can do. Once the war is over, I’ll resign. By that time whoever wants that chair he or she can take it. Whether it’s Targaryen or Stark or whatever, as long as the new monarch doesn’t plan to burn King’s Landing, I don’t care!_

* * *

‘The realm needs someone who knows how to do his job.’

If anyone asked him why he took the position he had no intention to keep at the first place, the line above was his answer.

From Aerys to Cersei, those who sat on that damn chair (expect Tommen, he was just a boy) cared no more than their own power, and those who worked for them cared only their own power (such as his father) or the power of the monarch they vowed to serve (like Ned Stark). Usually, he didn’t care. He was a sworn brother of the Kingsguard, his top priority was to ensure the royal family’s safety. Even after Tommen dismissed him from his Kingsguard, he was Ser Jaime of House Lannister, his family mattered the most to him. But at times such as now, when there was common threat coming for all human beings, the realm needed a ruler who could put his own interest aside and care for all people.

 _I’m just here to do the job, so there won’t come another idiot to lead us to our doom._ Jaime thought bitterly. Cersei always said he was the stupidest Lannister, but on this matter, she was the one who couldn’t understand why the Lannister Army must head north, not him.

Speaking of Cersei’s foolish actions, Jaime couldn’t help but think of Euron Greyjoy and Golden Company. Among all the shits Cersei left for him to wipe, this was no doubt the biggest shit.

_Pirates and mercenaries, what a pair! You really know how to make things worse, Cersei._

It was frustrating. All Jaime wanted to do was marching north and fight the undead, he didn’t want to deal with politics or plots or whatever that wasn’t related to swing his sword. However, now that he was aware of Cersei’s plan, he knew he had to do everything he could to stop it. Or else the pirate could easily take King’s Landing with Golden Company’s help.

Jaime knew he had to deal with it. Yet the problem was how? Before Cersei died, her plan about hiring Golden Company was unknown to everyone in court, except Qyburn mayhaps, but even her Hand could provide no more information than what she’d revealed in their last conversation. Jaime had to come up with a solution, on his own. He couldn’t discuss this with Addam or any of his commanders, for they’d know Cersei and he had had a quarrel, then they might discover why Mountain attacked him, then they’d know it was not an “accident” as he claimed.

Accident, the word he chose to describe the event, the way he wanted the world to remember Cersei’s death. Jaime snorted at himself. Why did he even try to cover up for her? She wanted him dead! What kind of man would pity the one who tried to kill him? He shouldn’t feel sorry for her, she didn’t deserve it. However, foolish as he was, he had decided to tell only part of the truth without second thought. He didn’t know why he bothered doing so. Instinct, he guessed. He’d tried to be her defender all his life, this time was no exception, only he knew for sure it would also be the last time. The last time he told a lie for Cersei.

_Can you feel my love for you, Cersei? I’m still protecting you, even after you died. I try to save your reputation so that people will never learn that you’d tried to kill your kin, your twin. Do you see it from wherever your soul rests now?_

Despite his anger, he knew “accident” was also the right word to use, for whatever Cersei planned, it surely wasn’t her own death. Cersei had made it clear, she wanted nothing other than the throne.

 _She’d even have me killed by that monster to get that chair._ Jaime thought bitterly. It was mere luck that he survived. And he hated her for it.

Try as he might, Jaime found it impossible to solve by himself only the day after he became the Hand. It was near midday and he was nowhere near finding a damn solution. Again proved he wasn’t made for politic. He was made for being a knight! When a knight wanted to kill, he went after that guy and delivered the blow himself, like he did with Ned Stark. But this time he couldn’t go kill Euron himself, Euron already set off for Essos and he had to lead the Lannister Army north.

“Look like you’re troubled.” Bronn’s voice from the door jolted him. The knight leaned on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “Not meant to disrupt you, my Lord Hand.” He said his title in a mocking tone, “Just thought I saw something interesting on the street that you might want to know.”

“And I thought I’ve told _everyone_ not to leave this castle.” Jaime groaned, if Bronn could find a way out of the castle, surely other nobles could. He’d closed the gate of Red Keep and put guards to every passage he knew, even the rookery was guarded, in hope to prevent the spread of the news of Cersei’s death. Well, apparently, that didn’t work. “I could punish you for disobeying my order, you know?”

“As if you will.” Bronn rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, no one saw me. By the way, you want to know it or not?”

“Say it, I’m listening.”

“I saw some Ironborn lurking in the streets, and,” Bronn smirked. “I found a ship in the harbor. Greyjoy’s.”

Jaime sighed. No matter why that ship was left behind, it was another problem waiting to be solved. “I’ll deal with it later.” Then he gestured for Bronn to leave.

Despite of his instruction, Bronn didn’t leave at once.

“What?” Jaime looked up and found Bronn still there, hand stretched, palm up.

“You don’t think that information is free, do you?”

“Why should I pay for something you _offered_ first?

“Because you _agreed_ to listen. That made the deal.”

Jaime ground his teeth, he opened the drawer and found a small bag with some silver stags in it. He grabbed one and tossed it to Bronn.

Bronn clearly wanted to argue, but Jaime beat him to that, “You broke the rule I set to get that information, besides, you didn’t say how much the information was, so that’s your payment. Now leave.”

Jaime didn’t want to give credit to Bronn, but his unexpected visit did inspire him. To be more specific, him acting like a totally insufferable _mercenary_ helped.

Mercenary. That was the answer! He could hire mercenary. He could hire Golden Company to deal with Euron Greyjoy! That way he only needed to send a raven to Essos, informing the Golden Company that the Crown wishes to rewrite some parts of their deal, then he could devote all his time to the preparation, focus solely on Westerosi affair and _simply_ _wait_!

However, later when Jaime stood in the rookery watching the raven flying away, the ecstatic feeling of solving a hard problem faded, giving way to a strong sense of sickness.

What was the difference between he and his father (or Cersei or Tyrion) now that he too started to send people after his enemy?

* * *

‘Please, tell her I really am sorry.’

If Selwyn noticed Jaime’s grim face and low spirit when he said this, Jaime wouldn’t be surprised.

Since Jaime received the letter from Lord Selwyn Tarth a sennight ago, he had been looking forward to meeting Brienne’s father. It wasn’t their first meet, Jaime was sure he had seen the Evenstar before in Robert Baratheon’s court, but the image blurred that when Jaime asked Addam to greet the party this morning, he didn’t know what to describe except his height. How embarrassing of him.

Jaime hoped he’d done well enough in front of the party of the Stormland lords, not that he wished to befriend with all of them, it was just, he’d had enough enemies waiting for him in the North, he didn’t need more from the south.

The meeting went as he anticipated, Selwyn had repeated Brienne’s words at the very beginning, challenging him, meanwhile had not a clue the statement actually came from his daughter. Jaime wondered how Selwyn would react once he told him the origin of those words and that he merely followed his daughter.

Selwyn reminded Jaime of Brienne, both father and daughter were more a listener than a talker, both had a sense of righteous, and most of all, they shared the same blue eyes that kept drawing Jaime’s attention.

That was when Jaime realized how much he missed Brienne.

But what would she say when they met again? What would she do when she learned about Selwyn? Would she be mad at him? Would she _hate_ him?

 _She’s Brienne, she’ll let me explain._ Jaime thought hopefully. He had at least three different reasons he could tell her, and much more if she wasn’t satisfied with those three. But what if Brienne was too mad she intended to never forgive him? It was her father he imperiled, she had every right to be angry.

Jaime sort of confessed to Selwyn about his regret after they sat across each other by the window. To be honest, Jaime didn’t even know what he was going to do, he only acknowledged the need of an apology, yet how? Selwyn, who was at least a decade elder than him, seemed to catch the point of his mumble, and surprised him by offering his help.

Selwyn’s suggestion was good, and considerate, and there seemed no reason why Jaime should turn down his offer, therefore he didn’t. It was just—Jaime was worried about the consequence.

_Once Brienne gets this letter, will she believe it? Will she tell others about the content? Will others question her? Will her be accused for being a friend of me, the Kingslayer? Will this bring trouble to her?_

If it did, he really was sorry.

* * *

Jaime dreamed of Brienne.

The air was frigid, and it was snowing. There was no sun, but still he could see the enemies surrounding them clearly. They were fighting, not against each other as he once feared, but back to back facing the undead like he wished.

It should have been dark without the sunshine, but there was fire everywhere to provide the lightness. People around them—soldiers—had torches and swords in their hands, while Brienne and he… _THEIR SWORDS WERE ON FIRE!_

 _At least it’s blue, not green._ Jaime thought, he was certain if the flame was green he’d never touch Widow’s Wail again, thank the Seven it was blue. _Like Brienne’s eyes._

Wight after wight, Jaime stroke them down without much difficulty, he had a sword made of Valyrian steel and it was now coated with blue flame, he felt invincible, besides, he knew Brienne was right behind him. She would guard his back as long as he guarded hers, he knew she would not leave him alone on this battlefield, he had faith in her. Together, they would survive this.

But then he saw a spear made of ice shooting their way—

He was dying. The spear penetrated his right shoulder, and it was so cold it seemed his blood would be frozen before his hot blood could melt the ice spear. He must be dying.

The battle continued while Jaime lay on the ground slowly bleeding to his death. He heard Brienne shouting commands, he saw her wielding Oathkeeper taking down dozens of wights and, at the very last, something looked like the general of the wights fell, brought down all the wights with it.

Then Brienne was all he saw, she was so near he could count the freckles dotting her forehead and cheeks if he wished to. But his sight had already be seized by her eyes.

_So bright. So beautiful. So blue._

Brienne cradled him in her arms, her breath on his face felt warm, even her embrace felt warm. But that only emphasized this was a dream, they were both wearing armors! It was impossible she could share her body heat with him.

There were tears in Brienne’s eyes, making them more like the sapphire water he passed few years ago. She really had the most beautiful eyes.

‘You idiot! Why push me away?’

 _Are you serious? To save you, of course! What else could it be?_ Jaime wanted to yell back but was too tired to do so. Also, he noticed she was frowning. He hoped she’d stop frowning, that didn’t look good on her.

‘I don’t need your rescue!’

 _Yes, just like you didn’t need me when you were thrown into the bear pit._ He thought sarcastically.

‘Jaime? Jaime!’ Oh, no. His vision started to blur. He blinked, trying to catch the sight of her eyes again. ‘JAIME!’ He hoped she’d stop moving, it was already hard for him to concentrate. But Brienne was stubborn, she would not listen to him, he knew that. Therefore, he raised his hand to keep her face there.

It took him some time to achieve that. He had lost too much blood it seemed. He felt cold and his limb didn’t want to follow his command. But when his gloved hand finally touched her cheek, he smiled. He found her.

‘No! Jaime, stay with me, Jaime!’

Before he lost consciousness, her voice was the last thing he heard, and her blue eyes were the last thing he saw.

If he was going to die for saving Brienne, if he would die in Brienne’s arms, if that was how he was going to die in this war, in the North, it didn’t seem so bad, did it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a feeling I let Jaime WORRY TOO MUCH. But I don’t want to apologize for that, sorry not sorry.  
> In show!Canon Jaime told Tyrion he wanted to die in the arms of the woman he loved. If he dreamed of himself dying in Brienne’s arms and didn’t feel odd, perhaps he had already fallen for Brienne?  
> Oh, if anyone wants to know, Bronn sneaked out of the Red Keep because there was no brothel in the castle. :)
> 
> Comments or questions or kudo are welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> "Evenstar" is an interesting word, and it has many meanings. If I can ask GRRM a question one day, I'd like to know why Lord of Tarth is also called the Evenstar.


End file.
